


A towering legacy (FFXIVWrite2020 Day 7 - Nonagenarian)

by Ivelia



Series: FFXIV Write 2020 [7]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Gen, Patch 5.3: Reflections in Crystal Spoilers, Tumblr: FFXIVwrite2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-08
Updated: 2020-09-08
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:48:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26358970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ivelia/pseuds/Ivelia
Summary: Part of my attempt for #FFXIVWrite2020 - September 7 (Day 7 - Nonagenarian)Stones have stories to tell.Spoilers for Patch 5.3, please read at your own discretion!
Series: FFXIV Write 2020 [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1906951





	A towering legacy (FFXIVWrite2020 Day 7 - Nonagenarian)

Perched on the thin handle of her witch’s broom, she took in the glistening waters of the Source, peeking among the purple trees of the Forest of the Lost Shepherd. It sure was a gorgeous view, even though her present situation was probably not the most comfortable to admire it. She sighed, as she thought back of the trigger to her current predicament. A few days ago, a patrolling guard thought he had noticed something that looked suspiciously like cracks on the massive stone facade overlooking the Exedra, so they wanted someone they could trust to have a discreet look and evaluate the damage to see what could be done.

Having heard about her accomplishments in the crafts, Lyna had concluded that she, that innocent passer-by, perfectly fit the bill as someone who would enough to fly a mount in dangerous conditions, a necessary condition to inspect the highest points of the potentially affected area; she knew enough of stonework to identify potential issues with the building; and above all, she could be trusted to keep her lips tightly shut on the matter in order to avoid causing panic in the city.

So there she was, flying around the innermost parts of the man made constructions that were directly touching the crystalline structure, tapping here and there to test the status of materials, taking notes, all the while perched on a  _ freaking magicked broom _ , which was the most diminutive and agile flying device she had. She stifled a yawn. After a while of flying under the rays of the sun that were reflected and amplified by that blue, humongous prism, she was more than well-done, and really starting to get tired; this could have disastrous consequences given the nature of her current activity. She finally decided to take a break, landing on a nearby edge. Once her flying device was secured (it would have been such a pity to lose it to the void below in a gust of wind, really), she sat on the ledge, legs dangling in the emptiness, before reclining to lay her back flat on the floor. As she closed her eyes, she could feel the soft thrumming of the aether in the structure beneath her.

In recent years, they had been mostly relying on the wards and energy cannons to protect the city from sin eater attacks. With their limited resources, they had to neglect the walls themselves, especially internal walls such as the one she was currently resting on. Thankfully, these did not have to serve as the last line of defence for a long time. This part of the city… was  _ old _ . Well, not that old, but she could feel that although they were still young, these ramparts had a story to tell. If her Echo was working on inanimate objects, she would have probably been able to see the beginnings of the city; the harsh tale of the survivors of the flood who came here in the wake of the Tower’s appearance, seeking asylum from the oppression of Light in its reassuring shadows.

But she could only rely on the nicks and gashes in the masonry to learn this story. The composite assemblage of the stones had something to say as well. Part of them looked obviously repurposed from the nearby ruins of Elven castles, or maybe even from pieces of the original Labyrinth of the Ancients that had made the trip through the void; it was like a rather crude metaphor on new civilizations rising from the ashes of ancient ones, a pillage born from the necessity of rebuilding a new life in these now hostile lands. Other pieces had been carved from the nearby mountains, blending elegantly with the decor, as if to showcase their progress toward a society that could stand by itself.

These tall walls had been built the earliest, close to the main column, encasing its foundations as if to stabilize it. It kind of made sense. Just like on the source, the original cerulean fortress had “sprouted overnight” in the wake of the Seventh Calamity, here, it had suddenly appeared as well. People were bound to have doubts on the stability of the construct, and the sudden fall of such a huge piece of crystal was probably not something they’d have wanted to see on top of a radiant apocalypse.

Thankfully, the blue spire had appeared next to a mountain range; it would have been way harder for the Crystarium to grow as one of the last bastions of hope if it had appeared in a plain, or even in the midst of a body of water… Though this was not surprising, given the similarities of geography of Norvrandt and Eorzea. The scorching deserts of Amh Areng and Thanalan, the lush forests of Rak’tika and the Black Shroud, the vibrant coasts of Kholusia and La Noscea, the rolling green hills of Il Mheg and Coerthas...

\- (Coerthas was not green though... ?)

A strange familiarity, a bit like home, but not quite. It must have felt weird to arrive here, playing the role of a mysterious sage, leaving a world on the brink for another. How long had it been? The passage of time had been different on the two shards, so… She counted. Arbert and his friends had made their way back to the First to halt the flood a century ago; for a while, this world had tethered on the verge of destruction for a while, before the Syrcus Tower suddenly flashed into existence, but it was still fairly early. So… ninety years or so? More than a lifetime then. It was a bit hard to conceptualize. Elezen/Elves were said to be a high longevity race, though not as immemorial as the Viera/Viis, but even so, for most folks, reaching this the ripe status of nonagenarian was something a few were able to do, especially in time of strife, or if they had dangerous occupations; and those who did grow that old were all to content to stay in the comfort of their homes, their backs bent under the weight of the years, reminiscing fondly about their past glories. 

But for longer than most men had lived, he had been here, giving his all and more in a bid to save both worlds. And that was not even counting his time and effort spent in that unwritten future, the links he had severed, the friends he had lost.

\- (It must have been lonely…) Thank the Twelve that he was finally free of that duty, though... His retirement hobbies were a bit unusual. She smiled, remembering their latest antics. (Ah, while I’m at it, perhaps I should bring him something nice from here.) Like a specialty confectionery from these parts, or something. She could already picture his shy, happily wiggling ears. She’d also need to bring some souvenir back to the other too. (But first, gotta finish things up here…) she got up, dusting herself, and after stretching, she hopped back on her broom to resume her task.

After all, he wouldn’t be pleased if they’d let part of the city,  _ his _ city, collapse because they started slacking off after his departure.

**Author's Note:**

> And the prompt for today is "nonagenarian" [a person whose age is in the nineties]. I could have talked about the cool grandpas we get the extension, but they're not precisely nonagenarians xD The city of Crystarium however, should be :D (which is crazy considering the sheer size of the thing and that they're not supposed be a modern society but yeah #plotconvenience, or rather, #allagans xD)  
> Actually I think that this weird association comes form the fact that one of the nicknames from the Eiffel Tower in my part of the woods is "La vieille dame de fer " (the old iron lady) so tower -> old lady somewhere in my brain xD


End file.
